


Here We Go Again

by Acidwing



Category: Bleach, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-03-13 01:36:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3362960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acidwing/pseuds/Acidwing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The confrontation with Voldemort gets interrupted by unexpected arrivals. A very silly sort-of sequel to “Time Travel"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Deus Ex Machina

**Author's Note:**

> This is utter crack, created while I was writing "Time Travel" (better read it first or you might end up hopelessly confused). It's an unofficial sequel of sorts that shouldn't be taken seriously.
> 
> On the "Harry Potter" side it's a massively handwaved AU with incredibly unclear past taking place some time after year 4. It's been a while since I read the books, and fanfics muddled my memory even further, so any possible accuracy goes right out the window.
> 
> It's crack so don't go here looking for logic. You won't find any.

The atmosphere in Hogwarts was filled with fear as the younger students huddled together waiting for their turn to use the portkey and escape from the doomed castle. The children barely suppressed their terror, afraid of even looking out the windows yet desperately wishing to know what was going on outside the walls. The upper year students were not in the castle, and neither were the teachers, only few remaining to lead the evacuation. They stood on the ground below, grim-faced and determined, ready to face the enemy.

And face the enemy they did, for Lord Voldemort himself was there with a veritable army of Death Eaters just outside the glimmering transparent walls.

“Don’t think your spells will hold for long,” the dark wizard hissed. “Bow before me and I just _might_ spare your miserable lives.”

“I’ll never bow to you, Voldemort!”

Thin lips stretched into grotesque smile. “Ah, Harry Potter! How wonderful to see you here! Don’t worry, _you_ I won’t let survive.”

“Harry will kick your ass, you slimy snake!” Ron yelled, his ears red with anger, as the similar shouts echoed from the rest of the students that chose to fight, while the teachers and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix glared in defiance.

Dumbledore frowned, his blue eyes without the usual twinkle, and then addressed his former student – his greatest failure. “Leave now, Tom, while you still can. I won’t let you hurt the children.”

“Don’t call me by that name!” the dark lord spat. “And I won’t leave until you lay dying on the ground as your precious mudbloods are slaughtered before your eyes!”

The headmaster of Hogwarts shook his head disapprovingly, and gripped his wand a bit tighter. “You won’t win, Tom.”

Voldemort snarled in rage, but forced himself to calm down. “We’ll see.”

He flicked his wand at the transparent glass dome covering the castle and the school grounds – heavily enchanted and designed to stop almost any curse – and began dismantling the spells. The protectors of Hogwarts shifted into battle stances, knowing it was only a matter of time before the barrier fell. It was only created to buy time for the younger students to escape, but the Floo system no longer worked and the portkeys took time.

They were determined to fight till the very end, yet few were sure of their survival, for the situation was grim indeed.

What they needed was a miracle.

* * *

The bright light flashed suddenly just outside the wall, and even Voldemort stopped his work, everyone equally astonished at the strange occurrence. The light faded just as suddenly, and everyone gasped at the sight of eight – no, those couldn’t _possibly_ be humans – creatures that appeared from within it.

The newcomers looked around, before one of them spoke in a strange language. It sounded eastern, Japanese perhaps, though Hermione thought she heard the words ‘déjà vu’.

The speaker was fairly tall and lean, dressed in long black coat, with chalk-white skin and long orange hair. However the first thing she – and indeed anyone – had noticed was the grinning skull he had instead of a face and two long curved horns protruding from his temples. His voice sounded oddly reverberating and strangely, he didn’t open his mouth to speak. Was it just a mask then? She hoped it was.

The next person to speak was a young glasses-wearing man with jet-black hair. His clothes were white and certainly odd, but at least he looked normal… No, no he didn’t, because the blue glow emanating from his back suddenly shifted and with astonishment Hermione noticed wings, seemingly made of light.

The third speaker only remotely resembled a human being. He had a large head of a snake, seemingly too large for his body, with a mane of red hair while the rest of him… The young witch couldn’t even _begin_ to guess just what sort of a creature he was. He had no legs, just a long tail, his stance similar to that of a cobra. The entire body was light gray and segmented, looking quite a bit like a spinal column, and the tip of the tail lengthened into a thin blade. The creature, however, did have arms, segmented like the rest of his body and ending with clawed hands. His voice sounded normal enough, but his jaws didn’t move as he spoke.

The cheerful female voice sounded next, the bright-haired girl looking so unbelievably _normal_ , that it was an oddity in on itself. She was dressed in muggle clothes, so out of place both in the Wizarding World and between the monsters she arrived with, and yet she showed no fear whatsoever, entirely comfortable while surrounded by creatures that the nightmares were made of.

The next speaker towered over them all, not quite as tall as Hagrid, but certainly bigger than an average human. His skin was darkly colored and his long brown hair hid his eyes. His voice was even and measured, the low timbre quite fitting his stature. Just like the winged man he looked almost normal but definitely wasn’t, since what at first seemed like rather odd sleeves were actually his arms. His right arm was black with strange red designs, the forearm impossibly wide, like a shield of some sort. His left arm was white, with a spike on his elbow, his fingers tipped with red.

“What the hell?” Ron whispered, astonished at the sight of the next creature, and Hermione suddenly remembered the beginning of their third year. Professor Lupin had told them about a boggart that tried to turn into two different things at once and didn’t look threatening at all as a result. This thing, however, even while looking like dozens of creatures mashed together certainly had the ‘scary’ part down.

Harry shook his head, swearing under his breath. He had faced a basilisk and a horde of dementors but this thing was the scariest creature he had ever seen. The creepiest part was probably its head because it looked completely human, with young male face and short black hair sticking every which way. The rest of its body, however, was a nightmarish mess of insectoid limbs and tentacles and mismatched wings growing at odd angles. Yet just before his eyes its form shifted and shrank, the excess limbs disappearing as the creature took on a more humanoid form. Just what the hell was it? Because no metamorphmagus, no animagus, probably not even _boggart_ could change forms like that.

The next speaker was a petite woman, entirely normal-looking if not for all the white. Her clothes were white, her skin was white, even her hair was white! She looked like someone had dumped a sack of flour on her, but compared to the rest of the creatures the oddity was so incredibly _mild_ , it barely even deserved a mention.

The last person to speak was as tall as the guy with the strange arms but very lithe. He was dressed entirely in black, his body hidden completely under the dark cloth. Even his head was wrapped in a black scarf, just a few tufts of white hair poking out, which made Harry immediately if, perhaps, unfairly dislike the guy, as he remembered professor Quirrel and his turban. Unlike the now-deceased professor though, the man in black hid his face as well with that same scarf, so only his left eye and cheek were visible. There was also something that made Harry doubt his eyes – and glasses – because there were shadows surrounding the man. Moving shadows!

The creatures meanwhile had all looked at the horned man who snapped at them, his words unintelligible but his voice obviously annoyed. They continued talking to each other, before that same guy turned his attention to the assembled wizards and witches. He asked something in a language no one understood and waited for response while they stared back and tried to decipher just what the hell he wanted.

* * *

“Am I the only one feeling déjà vu here?” Ichigo asked, the horned mask hiding his expression of utter confusion.

“Hmm,” Ishida spread his bright blue wings. “Ultimate techniques activated? Check.”

Renji twisted his snake-like body glancing around, “No idea where we are? Check.”

“No idea how we got here?” Orihime piped up. “Check.”

“No idea what happened?” Chad said after searching his memory. “Check.”

“Powers totally out of whack?” Kaien grimaced trying to shapeshift into more or less humanoid form. “Check.”

Rukia crossed her arms and nodded, “Yep, sounds familiar, alright.”

Kokuto shook his head in disbelief, “Why do you people always get into stuff like this?”

Everyone looked at Ichigo in response. Feeling their stares he snapped, “Hey, don’t look at me like that! How should I know?”

“Well,” Renji drawled. “You are the one who always attracts trouble.”

“And weirdness,” Rukia added smirking.

“And drags us into it,” Ishida said pushing his glasses up.

“How is any of it my fault?” Ichigo yelped then shook his head noticing the people staring quite creepily at them.

“Let’s ask, maybe they know something!” Inoue chirped with a bright smile.

Ichigo shrugged. Why not? “Oi, who are you, people, and where the hell are we?”

The two – he was pretty sure there were at least two – groups of oddly dressed people with _sticks_ of all things in their hands stayed quiet. And stared, can’t forget the stares. Trying not to feel too creeped out, the orange-haired young man glanced around. “Oi, people with sticks!” No response. “What’s with the staring?” he asked bewildered.

“It’s like they’ve never seen Shinigami before,” Rukia said brushing the ice and snow off her sleeves absentmindedly.

“Or Quincy,” Ishida added, his wings twitching in irritation.

“Or Hollows,” Kaien said distractedly. His body still refused to change completely, leaving the Espada with a bat-like wing instead of his right arm and a bunch of tentacles growing from his left one.

“Or Demons,” Kokuto remarked with disinterest as the shadows twisted and danced around him.

“Or Fullbringers,” Chad continued in a slightly bemused tone crossing his arms – not an easy task since they were already transformed for some reason.

“Or even humans,” Orihime added in surprise.

“Or… whatever the hell Kurosaki is,” Renji smirked.

“Hey!” the aforementioned hybrid yelped. “I resent that remark!”

“You resemble it, Strawberry!” the redhead laughed ducking a swipe of a clawed hand.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Pineapple?” Ichigo growled as the first red sparks of a Cero appeared between his horns.

“But it’s true, Kurosaki-kun!” Orihime said cheerfully as everyone else nodded in agreement.

Ichigo threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “What is this, a ‘pick on Ichigo’ day?” Thinking quickly, he added, “And by the way, we don’t know what Kaien is either.”

As everyone turned to him, the dark-haired Shiba yelped in disagreement, “Don’t drag me into this!”

Unfortunately, the others chose him as their next victim.

“Really, Kaien-dono,” the youngest Kuchiki smirked. “Just what are you exactly?”

Ichigo sighed in relief, glad that the attention was no longer on him, and watched the comedy unfold.

“You are not Shinigami anymore, you are neither Hollow nor Arrancar and not even Visored since you have two Zanpakuto and no mask,” Uryu remarked.

“So what are you?” Renji asked.

Kaien shifted from one foot to another with the ‘deer in headlights’ look as the dark violet tendrils hanging from his left sleeve twisted in discomfort. “Well… I’m- Umm… that is-”

“You have no idea yourself!” Kokuto snorted.

The Shiba clan head gave the Demon a wounded look. “That’s it! I’m not talking to you!” He glared at the sniggering Shinigami, smirking Quincy, and his openly laughing cousin. “You are all so mean…!”


	2. It's… Over?

“What is going on here?” a high voice hissed suddenly, and the group of friends turned as one to look at the speaker.

“So you _can_ talk!” Renji cheered earning a smack from Rukia while Ishida tried to contain his disgust. He’d seen _Hollows_ looking better than whatever the (human? Nah, couldn’t be) person in question was.

The – seriously, what species did this- _this_ belong to? – man was pale, paler than Kaien even which was quite a feat considering that Segunda Espada while no longer adversely affected by sunlight still hated it and preferred hiding in the shadows. The mystery male was also bald lacking even eyebrows and – Uryu had to blink and rub his eyes for they had surely been deceiving him – had no nose. There was no scar, so… was it a birth defect or something? And he had red eyes. Huh, the Quincy had never seen the eyes like that, and even the rich crimson of Kurosaki’s Demon form didn’t quite come close to that blood red color.

“English?” Orihime mumbled in confusion. “That was English. Are we in England?” The girl paused then gasped with dawning comprehension, “So that’s why they didn’t answer! They don’t understand Japanese!”

“Hey, you’re right!” Ichigo exclaimed in surprise, privately thanking Urahara and his latest invention that allowed learning any language in record time. “Where are we? And who are you?” he immediately asked in English, thankful that at least one of the odd people started talking and cleared the misunderstanding. Now if they had only stopped staring… Seriously, if those people, whoever they were, were capable of seeing spirits, then why the weird reaction?

“I am the one asking questions here!” the bald male shrieked.

Ichigo shrugged, “Yeah, sure, whatever.” He just couldn’t bring himself to be angry at the rudeness. The poor man was obviously suffering from some weird disease or genetic disorder. “Go on then, ask.”

“You will treat me with respect, creature!”

Ichigo frowned under his mask. Now that was totally uncalled for.

“That’s rude!” Orihime chimed in disapprovingly.

He nodded, “Yeah, exactly. Why should I respect you anyway?”

That was obviously the wrong thing to say as the pale man shrieked in rage, “I am the greatest dark wizard in the world! I am Lord Voldemort!”

The red-haired Shinigami Lieutenant couldn’t help but snicker, “Your name is Moldywart? Did your parents hate you or something?”

Rukia immediately stomped on his tail freezing it for good measure, “Don’t insult him! It’s not his fault he has a stupid name!”

Renji hissed like a snake he currently resembled as his tail snapped in half. He cradled the broken part in both hands and tried to warm it with his breath. He most certainly didn’t want to reattach the still frozen piece.

 “Wizard?” Kaien asked apprehensively, for the first time paying attention to his surroundings. “Did you just say you are a wizard?”

The self-proclaimed Lord either didn’t hear the question or was too absorbed with his rant to answer it, “You will kneel before me or die, for soon I will rule the Wizarding World!”

“Wizarding World?” Kaien whispered in horror then groaned miserably. “Oh, please, no. I’d rather babysit Yachiru then deal with those idiots. They are worse than Central 46.”

His words were lost as his cousin snarled, the unmistakable Hollow timbre even more pronounced in his voice, “I kneel before no one! And neither do my friends, you arrogant bastard!”

“How dare you speak to my lord this way!” a crazy-looking woman screeched and waved her stick, “Crucio!”

Ichigo didn’t even have to use Sonido to dodge the red light the crazy sent his way. He scratched his head in confusion moving between similar blasts of red and called, “Oi, Rukia, is this some sort of Kido I don’t know about?” He was almost certain it wasn’t since he felt no hint of reiatsu, neither Shinigami, nor Hollow, not even Demonic. Then again, his knowledge of Kido was limited at best.

The Shinigami shook her head, “It’s not. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“I have,” Kaien whispered weakly, once again unheard. The Shiba clan head quietly lamented the fact that those were _witches and wizards_. Honestly, wasn’t it enough that he had to deal with Pesche and Dondochakka on a daily basis, break fights between Ganju and random Shinigami, between Grimmjow and random Hollows, between Hiyori and random… everyone. But no, he had to deal with _witches and wizards_ now. Life was so unfair.

Meanwhile the rest of the people who obviously belonged to the same group as No Nose and The Crazy started waving their sticks around and yelling strange words that sounded kinda-but-not-quite English-y too. This resulted in a veritable barrage of multicolored lights that were quite annoying though still easy to dodge.

In contrast, the other group of stick-wielders stood quietly behind some sort of a barrier. Ichigo glanced at them, “Oi, people with sticks! …Um, the not shooting ones! Care to explain what the hell is going on here?”

“While I could ask you the exact same thing,” the old man with really long beard and twinkling eyes said, “It can wait for now. What are you interested in, Mr…?”

Ichigo stared at him for a moment then got it, “Oh, yeah. I’m Kurosaki Ichigo. The white midget-”

“Who are you calling midget, you abnormally tall idiot?”

“-Is Kuchiki Rukia. The tall guy is Sado Yasutora, but everyone calls him Chad. The snake-head monkey-brain-”

“That’s it, Strawberry, you are going down!”

The hybrid ducked Hikotsu Taiho thrown his way, “-Is Abarai Renji. The guy with wings-”

“How eloquent, Kurosaki.”

“Shut up, Ishida! …Ahem, the guy with wings is Ishida Uryu, and the girl is Inoue Orihime.”

“Hi, everyone!”

“The idiot over there-”

“So mean, Ichigo…!”

“-Is, unfortunately, my cousin, Shiba Kaien. And the guy with the shadows is Kokuto, no last name.”

“Heh, don’t need one.”

“Now,” Ichigo clapped his hands, “Who are you?”

“My name is Albus Dumbledore,” the old man said. “I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

“Witchcraft?” Ichigo repeated.

“Wizardry?” Ishida echoed.

“I knew it!” Kaien groaned and started sobbing dramatically. The fact that he was still dodging the colorful lights caused many a raised eyebrow.

Ichigo stared at him for a moment then shook his head, long since given up on trying to understand just what exactly went through his cousin’s mind. “Okay,” he drawled in slight confusion. “So all of you are wizards-”

“And witches!” a bushy-haired girl added.

He nodded, “-Yeah, and witches, and you study- um, magic?” he glanced around, receiving several nods. “So you study magic in this school?” he pointed at the castle – kinda cool, though not that impressive compared to Las Noches – and received another round of nods.

“So… who is the No Nose?”

There was a moment of silence before the boy with stunningly green eyes that reminded Ichigo of his Cuatro Espada said tentatively, “Do you mean Voldemort?”

The orange-haired hybrid nodded, “Yeah, the guy with the stupid name. Who- I mean, why- I mean… just what the hell is wrong with that guy?”

There were several gasps from the people with sticks – he should probably start calling them wizards and witches now – as they stared at him in disbelief. Between the stares and the weird lights that No Nose and his group were _still_ shooting at them, Ichigo was honestly getting annoyed, “Oi, quit staring at me, it’s rude! What, have you never seen Hollows before or something?”

“You are not afraid of the dark lord?” someone asked carefully, and it was Ichigo’s turn to stare.

“Who is this dark lord you are talking about? …Oh, wait, you mean-” he paused trying to remember the name. It was something stupid like, “-Mortimer?”

“Mortimer?” the guy with red hair similar to his own chortled. “I don’t care what he looks like, this guy is brilliant!”

“Since it is quite obvious you are not on the same side with Tom-” Dumbledore started to say.

“So his name is Tom!” Ichigo interrupted. “Why the hell does he call himself Mortimer? It’s a stupid name!” He paused, slightly embarrassed, “…Um, sorry, jii-san. Please, continue.”

“-Would you help us defeat him?”

Ichigo scratched his head, “Um, why? I mean, he is rude and has a stupid name, but it’s not like it’s a crime or something.”

“Oh, he has plenty of crimes to speak of,” Kokuto snickered just above his ear. “So does the rest of them for that matter.”

Ichigo turned to him, “What do you mean?”

The former Togabito had almost completely melted into the shadows, the multicolored lights passing harmlessly through him. “You are not a pure Demon, unlike me, so you don’t feel it that well-”

“Demon?” one of the witches asked apprehensively, and the white-haired man turned to her, his smirk hidden under the black scarf but audible in his voice.

“Oh, yes, Demon, straight from the depths of Hell where damned souls wander for eternity. And as a Demon I can feel who will go to Hell and why, even while they’re still alive.”

Ichigo narrowed his eyes, “So you mean that No Nose and The Crazy…”

“…And the rest of their posse will go to Hell once their time is up.”

With a growl the hybrid turned to Dumbledore, “Okay, jii-san, we’ll deal with them for you.”

* * *

Dodging the weird lights was easy but incredibly annoying, so it was no wonder that the assorted group of spirits and superpowered humans was already itching for retaliation. It was Orihime who snapped first, her eyes flashing gold with rage, “Santen Kesshun! I reject!”

Enormous triangular shield snapped into existence, absorbing all attacks, but Inoue was far from finished. “Tsubaki!” she called and the fairy materialized on her palm. “Who do you want to kill first?” she asked in a voice slightly lilting and utterly terrifying, the same voice she used in her usual fights with Zaraki Kenpachi. The fights that usually landed both herself and the fearsome captain as well as any unlucky bystander in the care of the Fourth division.

Rukia quickly flash-stepped to her side, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Inoue turned to her with a frozen smile and too wide eyes, “Why not? Kokuto said they will all go to Hell. People like this do not deserve to live.”

“She is right,” Renji growled, his reattached tail swishing back and forth in agitation. “You _know_ what kind of things would make someone into a Togabito. Any court would sentence them to death or at the very _least_ to life in prison!”

“That’s not what I meant!” the snow-colored Shinigami snapped. “We are in the World of the Living and not even the part of it affiliated with Seireitei! We can’t play judge, jury, and executioner on someone else’s turf!”

Their argument was interrupted suddenly by the cries of, “That’s impossible!” and “It can’t be!”

Not quite getting what the commotion was about they stopped and watched as the noseless wizard aimed his stick and shouted, “Avada Kedavra!”

The blast of green light impacted the shield and dissipated harmlessly, the wizarding magic paling in comparison with the might of the goddess of rejection. The others started shooting similar blasts but Santen Kesshun didn’t even flicker under the onslaught. The defenders of Hogwarts gaped openly refusing to believe their eyes while the visitors from Japan had no idea what the entire racket was about.

“How does she do it?” the stern-faced old witch cried, and Ichigo turned to her in bafflement.

“What do you mean?”

“No magic can stop the Killing Curse!” someone else yelled, and Ichigo tried not to roll his eyes.

“It’s not magic. And I don’t think there is anything impossible for Orihime.” He ignored the other disbelieving shouts and addressed Dumbledore, “Okay, headmaster- um- Bumblebee?” The old man didn’t correct him but certainly looked amused. “Just to be clear, do you want us to capture these guys or to kill them?”

The old man paid no heed to disbelieving whispers all around, “As a matter of fact, it would be much preferable if they were captured. Could you do this, Mr. Kurosaki?”

Ichigo shrugged, “Sure, no problem.” And drawing his Zanpakuto from its sheath he called, “Whisper, Muramasa!”

A flash of purple emanated from the blade as Ichigo entered Shikai, immediately calling upon one of its abilities. Invisible threads of reiatsu snaked around the rejection shield and ensnared the enemy in a vice-like grip, making them fall down completely helpless and wrenching the sticks from their hands.

The very one-sided fight was over in seconds.


	3. A Matter of Perspective

“That’s… it?” someone asked in disbelieving whisper as the captive Death Eaters struggled to break free or at least reach their wands. Deprived of their magic and with it of any offensive capability along with any means of escape they were a rather pathetic bunch.

With not a small amount of respect and quite a lot of fear the students and teachers of Hogwarts looked at the man who had single-handedly managed to end the war.

He placed his katana on his shoulder looking almost _casual_. “Well, here you go, Bumblebee-san,” he said. “I’ll hold them for now, until you get these- um, are they wizards too? …Anyway, tie them up or something… Or whatever it is you magic people do to your prisoners.”

Dumbledore bowed, “Thank you, Mr. Kurosaki. Your help is much appreciated.”

* * *

 _‘Holding so many people at once? I am impressed, Ichigo,’_ Muramasa whispered in his mind. _‘Or at least I would have been, if you were capable of doing anything else at this moment. You need to work on your reiatsu control.’_

 **‘And multitasking,’** Tensa laughed. **‘Yer pathetic, King. Ya can’t even fight while holding those idiots in place.’**

Ichigo ignored the commentary of his Zanpakuto and Hollow – after years of sharing his soul with them he became quite adept at it – and concentrated on the strands of reiatsu struggling to keep them under control. He had never actually used the threads in such way – holding multiple opponents at once. Most of his fights were one on one with enemies able to either tear apart or unravel the threads. As such, he had only used the technique to create opportunities for more straightforward attack. But this? This was something he had never attempted on his own before.

With exasperated sigh Muramasa tugged on the threads taking control over them and reinforcing the net over their captives with effortless finesse.

‘Showoff,’ Ichigo grumbled good-naturedly receiving a smug grin in response.

A sudden chill went down his spine and he glanced at Rukia apprehensively. It was never a good idea to stand near diminutive Shinigami whenever she radiated so much cold. Strangely, the frost-wielder was just as surprised at the sudden drop in temperature as he was. Then where was it coming from?

“There,” Chad rumbled as if reading his thoughts and pointed at the forest.

There were creatures sliding from between the trees, seemingly humanoid, dressed in black hooded cloaks. At the sight of them the wizards became more agitated, and No Nose cackled and shrieked, “My dementors will destroy you all!”

As the hooded things slowly floated closer, the frost from their approach spreading over the grass, Kaien sniffed the air, used to tracking reiatsu by smell, “Feels like Hollows.”

“All looking the same?” Ichigo scoffed. “Not bloody likely. Or do you think those are tiny Gillians?” He turned to the aged wizard. “Hey, what are those things?”

The twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes dimmed, “These are dementors, the vilest creatures in the Wizarding World. They feed on happiness and spread despair, but worst of all, they devour souls.”

“I told you they felt like Hollows!” Kaien yelled.

Ichigo crossed his arms in irritation, “They don’t feel _quite_ like Hollows.”

“Arrancar don’t feel _quite_ like Hollows either!” the former Shinigami mocked. “I say, if it feels like a Hollow and acts like a Hollow, go on and take a bite! Besides, I’m hungry.”

His cousin growled in frustration, “You know what? Fine, I don’t care. If they turn out to be poisonous or something, it’s your own damn fault!”

Kaien paid no attention to him, drawing one of his swords with his left hand while the other weapon remained in its sheath, “Devour, Glotoneria!”

The Arrancar-type Zanpakuto glowed brightly, melting into his hand, before the light spread up, reshaping his entire arm. When the glow subsided, his left sleeve was gone, exposing the dark violet skin and dozens of writhing tendrils growing from his shoulder and forearm, while his fingers lengthened and gained rather impressive blade-like claws. Lastly, a round sharp-toothed mouth appeared on his palm.

His Resurreccion complete, Kaien vanished with a low sonic boom of Sonido reappearing behind one of the dementors. Lightning-quick his tentacles lengthened ensnaring the creature and crushing it into mostly unrecognizable pulp, before the mouth on his palm opened impossibly wide and swallowed it whole.

The wizards from both sides gaped in disbelief as one of the darkest creatures they knew about was destroyed and even the other dementors reeled back in fear, however, for the oddball group known mostly as ‘Kurosaki’s friends’ it was nothing new. After all, they’d already seen him eat all kinds of Hollows.

The Espada stopped for a second waiting for any odd feeling to appear – it was always good to be careful while trying any new food – before a bright smile split his face. “This thing was _awesome_!” he shouted and grabbed another dementor. “Tastes even better than Arrancar!”

“You eat like a pig!” Ichigo yelled as Kaien tried to swallow three dementors at once.

“Can’t hear you, Ichi-chan!” he cackled, quickly chewing his way through the creatures before dodging a Cero, courtesy of his annoyed cousin.

“Don’t call me ‘Ichi-chan’, you thick-headed Neanderthal!”

The bickering would have continued in the same vein if not for the creatures that had finally arrived attracting all attention – giants. Slow, both in body and in mind, they only now noticed the capture of their so-called leader along with the rest of the wizards and only now did they choose to enter the fight. Almost completely invulnerable to magic, they were quite formidable opponents for any witch or wizard, and considering their extremely tough skin, enormous height and incredible strength, it was no wonder that many people would have preferred dealing with _dragons_ , rather than giants.

Shinigami, humans, and assorted hybrids gaped at the creatures, though mostly at their comparatively human-like form.

“They are… _alive_!” Rukia gasped, utterly stupefied. “I’ve never… Just what _are_ they?”

“Better question,” Ichigo grumbled, “how the hell are we supposed to capture them?” He considered the demented Hollow thingies fair game, but Bumblebee-san asked to capture the wizards. Since those giant whatevers were alive, it would be better to make sure they stayed alive too. At least for now.

“I can catch one or two,” Renji volunteered.

“My shadows would probably work too,” Kokuto offered a bit unsurely, not used to dealing with something this big that he didn’t need to kill.

Rukia shook her head, “I could accidentally kill them. Living creatures don’t handle deep freeze that well.”

Neither Uryu nor Chad said anything since both of them lacked techniques necessary for the task while Inoue, who no longer maintained the shield, shrugged, “Soten Kisshun can hold them if I make it big enough, but we’ll have to gather them all in one place first.”

The red-haired Shinigami laughed, “Consider it done!”

His right arm immediately split into separate fragments joined by the red reiatsu threads. The strands lengthened moving the vertebrae-like segments farther and farther apart until his hand was several dozen feet away from his body. Then his fingers separated at the joints and the red reiatsu formed a hazy image of enormous claws. Renji flexed his incredibly long fingers made of spirit energy then casually grabbed one of the giants around the middle and easily lifted him, “Okay, where should I put this thing?”

Orihime pointed to the side where there was some open space then turned to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, “Wizard-san, what do you think? Is it alright?”

He nodded, “Of course, Miss Inoue.”

Hearing this, Renji unceremoniously dumped the giant on the ground and grabbed another one, repeating the process. Liquid shadows slithered around herding the rest closer, not letting them escape, and once all the giants – just eleven of them though with creatures like that even such low numbers could be dangerous – were relatively close to each other, the golden dome of Soten Kisshun snapped over them. Seeing this, Renji returned his arm to normal while the living shadows slinked back to Kokuto like obedient pets to their master.

* * *

“They… They did it…” Ron whispered with wide eyes. “Blimey, they did it! How the bloody hell did they do it?!”

The guy in creepy mask – Kuro-something-or-other – turned to him. “Did what?”

“This- _this_!” he yelled, gesticulating wildly and pointing at the helpless Death Eaters on the ground and the giants trapped in some glowy thing and that shapeshifting nutcase still chasing after the dementors – _eating_ the damned things. “How?!”

“Well…” the guy started and – bloody hell, was that a _hole_ in his chest? Ron didn’t even notice it at first because of how much stuff – damn _weird_ stuff – was going on but… there was a giant hole in his chest!

“Yes,” the masked guy said slowly, “there is.” …Blimey, did he say it out loud? “Because Hollows have holes. Didn’t you know it?”

“No, I didn’t know it!” He didn’t screech. He _didn’t_. It was a manly shout, not a girlish scream. “What happened to your heart?!”

Ron was given a strange look as if _he_ was the weird one. The guy tapped his mask with one claw – blimey, he had _claws_ too? – saying, “The Hollows’ hearts become their masks. Again, didn’t you know it? I mean, you can all see spirits, right? And this- this is just basic stuff.”

“Basic stuff?” he repeated incredulously. And what the hell did seeing ghosts had to do with anything?

“As to how we did-” the guy repeated his wild gestures, “- _this_ … Well, Soten Kisshun rejects everything on the inside, so it makes a really good cage. My idiot cousin feeds on Hollows, and your demented thingies are kinda like them, so he probably won’t die from food poisoning or something. All Demons can control shadows, and monkey-brain just has weird Bankai-”

“I’ll show you ‘weird’!”

Ignoring the swipe of a suddenly lengthened tail that nearly decapitated him, he continued, “-And the spirit threads are one of my Shikai abilities.” He shrugged. “That’s all.”

Ron gaped at him. _That_ was an explanation? He couldn’t understand half of those words! He glanced at Hermione hopefully, but the smartest witch he ever met looked just as dumbfounded and overwhelmed as he felt. She was opening and closing her mouth soundlessly, unable to form a word as dozens – _hundreds_ – of questions whirled in her mind. Her voice returned, however, just in time to scream a warning as a massive snake – Nagini – lunged at the masked man from behind.

* * *

Instincts honed in hundreds of battles made Ichigo turn around, blade at the ready, even before the girl made a sound though it was still nice of her to warn him. The speed of the snake – and whoa, it was huge! – while certainly great for an ordinary animal didn’t come even remotely close to Shunpo or Sonido. He grabbed the creature by the neck, mindful of its sharp and certainly venomous fangs, even though he doubted it could pierce his Hierro.

As the snake writhed in his grasp and hissed angrily, Renji suddenly shrieked, “Aaaargh! It talks! Why the hell does it talk?! Snakes are not supposed to talk!”

That was… weird. Apparently Ichigo wasn’t the only one to think so because Rukia yelled, “What are you screeching about, you idiot?”

“The snake was talking!”

“…No it wasn’t,” Ichigo said, bewildered. “Did you hit your head and lose what little brain you had, Pineapple?”

“I know what I heard, Strawberry!”

The snake hissed again and Renji let out another shriek, “There, it was talking again! Can’t you hear it?”

His friends exchanged confused looks.

“It seems that all Shinigami go mad eventually,” Ishida said with a smirk, shaking his head in mock sadness. “The snake was just hissing.”

“I didn’t hear any words as well,” Chad said looking at the creature curiously.

“Oh! Maybe you are psychic?” Orihime piped up. “That’s why we can’t hear anything! The snake must be telepathic!”

“Excuse me,” the girl with frizzy brown hair suddenly said, “Are you a parselmouth?”

Renji stared at her incredulously then exploded, “No, there are no parcels in my mouth! Have you all gone nuts here?!”

“ _Excuse me_ ,” the girl repeated pointedly. “A parselmouth is a person capable of speaking parseltongue – the snake language.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” the Shinigami Lieutenant screeched. “Snakes don’t talk! They are not supposed to talk! Do you think I’ve never seen snakes before? They don’t talk! They can’t talk!”

His voice was becoming more and more hysterical when Ichigo decided to interrupt. “Your Zanpakuto is part-snake, but they can talk,” he pointed out but the redhead refused to calm down.

“Of course Zabimaru can talk! They are a Zanpakuto, they are _supposed_ to talk! Snakes are not!”

Ichigo looked at Rukia helplessly as if trying to say, ‘He is _your_ best friend, so _do_ something!’

The snow-white woman contemplated freezing him for a few hours so he would at least stop screaming but quickly discarded the thought, no matter how tempting it was. Instead she asked, “Can Zabimaru understand snakes?”

“How the hell should I know?! It’s not like I can ask them right now! And they’ve never talked to any snakes before… they’ve never _seen_ any snakes before! There are no snakes in our Inner World! Why the hell would there _be_ any snakes in our Inner World?!”

Rukia sighed and tried to be reasonable as her life-long friend continued freaking out, “Urahara said that Fusion Bankai can have strange side-effects. This may be one of them.”

“Or maybe Hat’n’Clogs downloaded this parcel stuff in your head along with English,” Ichigo offered then grumbled with annoyance, “I wouldn’t put it past him and his damn sense of humor.”

Renji blinked at the explanation and started calming down as the decades-old tactic of ‘blame Urahara’ worked its magic. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” he said, grateful for the skull-like helmet hiding his embarrassed expression, though judging by the others’ faces, they’d never let him live it down anyway.


	4. Spirits and Magic Don't Mix

Harry tried not to laugh as the snake-like guy – what was his name? Abari? Abrai? – freaked out over his knowledge of parseltongue. Even _he_ didn’t have such a reaction after speaking with a snake for the first time, and he didn’t even know that he was a wizard back then! Ron was openly smirking now and some of the students were hiding smiles.

Suddenly it struck him that he no longer viewed their strange visitors from who-knows-where as _creatures_. Their offhanded banter, friendly interactions with each other, and most of all, their unwillingness to fight back until they ascertained that the Death Eaters were the enemy made them seem more human, albeit still very weird.

And very, _very_ powerful.

…They defeated Voldemort and made it look so easy! Harry still couldn’t believe it, even though the Dark Lord was lying on the ground before his very eyes, hissing threats and curses between his clenched teeth. The giants were pounding on the inside of the golden dome with their fists, but the girl holding them captive didn’t even flinch… didn’t even notice! And the dementors…

Ever since the beginning of his third year at Hogwarts Harry was terrified of dementors and with a good reason. The guards of Azkaban were universally feared and loathed, no one knew if they could be killed, and even the Patronus could only ward them off… but that shapeshifter was actually _eating_ them! How?! How could it be possible?!

“Bumblebee-saaaaan!” Well, speak of the devil. “Bumblebee-san, where can I get more of these things? They are delicious!”

Glancing around, Harry confirmed that there really were no more dementors around. Whoa, that was fast!

“Can you stop thinking about food for _one minute_!” the man in a horned mask yelled in frustration.

“But Ichi-chan!” the shapeshifter whined. “They were _so_ tasty! If you’d only tried one-!”

“I don’t eat Hollows, you moron!” he growled in response. “And even if I did, you already ate all of them!”

“But Ichi-chaaaaan…!”

“Gah! Stop calling me that!”

“Awww…”

Dumbledore – and really, for all his brilliance the headmaster _must_ have had a few screws loose to be that calm – answered in a polite and slightly amused tone, “While there are no more dementors on the premises, I am certain we can find something to accommodate your dietary preferences, Mr. Shiba.”

The shapeshifter carelessly waved the gruesome appendage his left arm had turned into, “Nah, don’t bother. If I get hungry, I’ll just open a Garganta to Menos Forest. Besides, I’m an Arrancar and a Vasto Lorde, I don’t _need_ to eat Hollows very often.” He paused for a moment then grinned, “Though if I find some more of those dementies, I won’t say ‘no’ to another snack.”

“Glad to hear it,” professor Dumbledore smiled and with a pointed look at Voldemort continued, “If this is settled then perhaps we should redirect our attention elsewhere.”

* * *

“You will pay for this!” the captive Dark Lord hissed writhing on the ground. “You will feel my wrath! You will bow down to me and beg for your lives!”

Muramasa clamped down on the reiatsu threads and the wizard groaned in pain feeling the tightening strands. _‘Annoying little creature, isn’t he?’_ Zanpakuto spirit commented.

Ichigo couldn’t agree more. Those who had power rarely bragged unless it was necessary for intimidation purposes, but the weaklings loved boasting.

“You were useless even with your stick, Mold- Voldy- _Tom_!” he yelled stumbling over the stupid name. Feeling his intent, Muramasa wrapped another thread around the stick and dragged it closer. Ichigo threw the huge snake at Renji, “Here, Pineapple! You can talk about your parcel stuff or whatever.”

Grumbling slightly, the red-haired Shinigami lengthened his arm grabbing the snake but held its jaws shut. Even though his freak out was over, Renji still felt uncomfortable talking to the damn thing. Stupid Urahara, stupid parcels, stupid magic snake…!

His left hand now free, Ichigo grasped the stick twirling it between his fingers. It looked… well, like a wooden stick! Small, thin, fragile…

“Jii-san,” he said. “What are these sticks? Are they weapons or something?”

At the word ‘weapons’ the hybrid felt a wave of contempt from the other residents of his soul. Ichigo wrinkled his nose under the mask and pushed at the stick with his thumb feeling the wood ready to break. Fragile.

“The wands are what allows us to use magic,” the headmaster said, and Ichigo felt slight curiosity. Magic, huh? In response to his thoughts his veins glowed softly under his skin.

‘Really, old man?’ Ichigo asked incredulously. Zangetsu rather pointedly directed more reishi into Blut Vene and showed him the memory of his disastrous first attempts at Kido.

 **‘Ya know, he has a point, King,’** Tensa piped up reinforcing his Hierro. **‘Ya suck at Kido. Wanna bet ya’ll suck at this magic stuff too?’**

‘Mother hens, all of you,’ he sent petulantly then said out loud. “So I can just wave this thing around, shout Abracadabra-”

“I think they said Alpha Centauri,” Ishida interrupted.

“No, it was Ada Kabara!” Kaien shouted, getting the annoyed “It’s not even a real word!” from Rukia.

“I believe it was Avada Kedavra,” Chad rumbled.

Knowing that Chad could perfectly transcribe lyrics of any song he heard even _once_ , Ichigo decided to go with his suggestion, “Okay, here goes nothing!” Pointing the stick away just in case, he shouted, “Avada Kedavra!”

Nothing happened.

Ichigo scratched his head staring at the stick... Oh, right! He fought the urge to facepalm. _Of course_ nothing happened! He probably needed to send reiatsu into the stick first!

“Attempt number two!” he announced, not about to be deterred. Pointing the stick, away he sent a tendril of reiatsu – about the strength of a Bala – into it.

The stick promptly exploded.

Ichigo stared at the wooden splinters in his hand and his slightly singed sleeve. ‘Too much reiatsu?’ he asked uncertainly.

 _‘Or perhaps a wrong type,’_ Muramasa offered.

That made sense. Hollow reiatsu made Kido more unstable. Perhaps magic was the same? ‘Let’s give it another try,’ he responded flash stepping to The Crazy and taking her stick. The captive woman shrieked like a banshee cursing him loudly while No Nose seemed to be stunned speechless from the loss of his stick.

 **‘C’mon, King, break this one too!’** Tensa groaned. **‘Maybe then she’ll stop screeching!’**

Ichigo winced, not particularly keen on listening to her shrieks either. Pushing his Shinigami reiatsu to the forefront, he sent the smallest amount he was capable of into the stick, “Attempt number three!”

It exploded too.

“Attempt number four?” he asked, shaking off the splinters and grabbing another stick from the blond man who looked more arrogant then all Noble Clans put together.

“Keep going, Kurosaki!” Ishida laughed. “These wizards have the funniest reactions!”

Glancing at his grinning friends, Ichigo bowed exaggeratedly and quickly gathered the rest of the sticks piling them at his feet.

“Attempt number four!” he repeated sending the Quincy reiatsu into the stick.

It exploded as well.

For the fifth attempt he shook awake his slumbering Demon side. Sending a sliver of energy his way, the tired soul fragment immediately fell asleep again.

This stick didn’t explode. It imploded.

Realizing that it would just explode again, Ichigo used pure Hollow reiatsu for his sixth attempt because why the hell not? Unfortunately, the novelty of making magic sticks go boom wore off quickly. Glancing at the pile at his feet and deciding that if Bumblebee-san wanted them to stop he would have at least said something, Ichigo called, “Hey, who wants to explode some sticks?”

* * *

“Oh my God, they are all crazy!” somebody said in a horrified whisper.

Harry completely agreed, staring in disbelief at their strange visitors who destroyed wand after wand for no reason other than because it was _funny_.

Of course, no one told them to stop – the Death Eaters were collectively ignored while the Hogwarts students and the Order didn’t want to get on the bad side of their incredibly powerful guests. Dumbledore just looked _amused_. Not that destroying the wands of the criminals was a bad thing, but still!

Harry was shaken out of his speechless stupor by the sudden warmth in his pocket. He grasped the enchanted coin and sighed in relief since it signaled the successful evacuation. At least the younger students wouldn’t be in danger, for even though Voldemort and his army were defeated (he still couldn’t quite believe it wasn’t some trick), he also understood that nothing would protect them from their strange guests. Sure, they seemed friendly, if a bit unhinged, but they also casually discussed murder and wielded powers like nothing he had ever seen before. Harry swore to himself to try and keep an eye on their visitors in case they tried something, but the realization of how insanely outclassed he and everyone else was made him genuinely scared.

* * *

It was rather telling, Chad reflected, that even in the midst of their admittedly fun stick-destroying spree none of his friends had powered down. Of course, Ichigo could stay in Resurreccion for as long as he wanted, his Quincy heritage letting him replenish the lost reiatsu in seconds, and since Fullbring worked on slightly different rules, Chad himself could stay transformed for a very long time. However, he knew that both Rukia and Renji found Fusion Bankai rather taxing, though less so than normal Bankai, while Kaien had nowhere near enough reiatsu to stay in Resurreccion for long. Ishida as well preferred to not stay in Vollstandig unless necessary, so seeing him with wings, even dormant ones, was somewhat unusual.

Indeed, surviving three wars made them all paranoid, so it was no wonder that in the unknown circumstances (even if their enemies were pathetically weak) everyone preferred to stay in the powered up form. Of course, the much simpler (and more correct) explanation was that they honestly forgot to change, too distracted by all the weirdness going on.

Shaking his head slightly, Chad turned his attention back to the stick in his hands. Getting rid of their enemies' weapons was only logical, but who would have guessed that destroying stuff was so much fun?

* * *

Kaien laughed, his tentacles tingling slightly from the explosion, and reached for another stick. Orihime clapped her hands gleefully, prancing around and leaning closer to the explosions, while Rukia was more interested in breaking sticks in half and the multicolored sparks she got as a result. Ishida lowered his dormant wings until the sharp tips touched the ground, leaving deep marks with each movement, though he hardly noticed, too busy cursing at his slightly singed and no longer pristine white clothes. Renji wrapped the snake around his neck ignoring its attempts to strangle him and was throwing the sticks up and slicing them in half with his tail blade. Kokuto was now playing fetch with the shadows he summoned while Chad was comparing the explosions he got from using his left and right arms (his offensive left arm seemed to give flashier results).

The sticks ended rather abruptly.

“Huh, guess this is the last one,” Ichigo said twirling the magic piece of wood between his fingers. “Who wants to give it a go?”

Hearing the chorus of refusals he shrugged, “Okay, my turn then!”

“The grand finale!” Rukia announced through laughter.

Ichigo pulled reiatsu into his hand as if about to fire a Cero and quickly pushed it into the stick, making it explode with a loud boom and a cloud of sparks and splinters. The explosion was slightly bigger than he expected, making his coat and hair flap on the wind. Ichigo grinned and bowed at the applause he received from his laughing friends, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this story was made from unfinished drafts, I'm not sure when it'll be updated next. Inspiration tends to strike at random.


	5. What’s So Bad about Splitting Your Soul?

“Well, that was fun,” Rukia smirked dusting off her hands.

“But how about getting rid of these guys?” Renji interjected swiping his tail in the general direction of the trapped wizards and giants.

“I don’t mind holding them,” Orihime chimed in with a shrug.

“But it’s getting kinda annoying,” Ichigo finished. “So, jii-san, since you wanted them alive… Do you mind taking them off our hands? …Oh, wait. _Can_ you get out? Are you trapped in this- uh, wall? If you are, just say so, and I’ll blast it open.”

“No need to worry, Mr. Kurosaki,” the headmaster of Hogwarts said. “This barrier was designed to protect us, not imprison. Minerva, if you please…?”

The old witch didn’t quite jump in surprise, but certainly looked startled. She quickly composed herself, “Ah, yes, Albus, of course.”

Together they created an opening in the enchanted dome and took the first step outside.

“I cannot express in simple words how grateful we are,” Dumbledore said.

“It’s no problem, jii-san,” Ichigo replied. “We usually deal with much worse.”

“Which is usually your fault,” Rukia added. Their friends nodded in agreement, causing Ichigo to grumble in response.

“It’s not _always_ my fault!”

“I said _usually_ , not always,” the Shinigami smirked.

The hybrid crossed his arms and fell into offended silence. Orihime giggled and patted his shoulder, “Don’t worry, Kurosaki-kun, you’ll win this argument! Someday. Maybe.”

* * *

The first step outside the glass dome was nerve-wracking, but Harry was a Gryffindor. Who else would constantly run towards danger? The other students followed his lead, spilling outside and spreading between the newcomers and their downed enemies. Some were tensely holding their wands; some were more relaxed, trusting their strange guests.

Harry stared at Voldemort.

Wandless and bound with invisible ropes, he didn’t look intimidating. And even if he was free, Harry doubted he would be afraid. The creatures who effortlessly defeated the Dark Lord’s army were much scarier.

And closer.

Harry whirled around, pointing his wand at the shadow man who stood uncomfortably close staring at him intently. The young wizard paused and slowly lowered his wand, “Um, can I help you?”

The man gave him a strange look then sighed rubbing his temples, “Must be going crazy.”

“That is an understandable fear,” the tall man – Chad? – said sagely.

“We are all mad here!” the bright-haired girl proclaimed. It sounded like a quote.

“Might be contagious,” the shapeshifter added.  “Hang around us a bit too much, and you’ll become like us.”

“Is this a Shiba family motto?” the masked guy laughed.

“Well, it might be!” the shapeshifter responded cheerfully. They were cousins, Harry remembered. And Shiba was his last name, right?

“Join the family – become a weirdo,” the snow-white (and snow-cold, he could feel it even from the distance) woman snorted.

“Unfortunately,” the snake-like man laughed draping one segmented arm over her shoulders, “Rukia here is forever a Kuchiki.”

“What do you mean ‘unfortunately’?” she squawked indignantly.

Her friends – and he could tell they were friends, he couldn’t mistake it for anything else – exchanged smirks and sly looks.

“Rukia,” the masked man said solemnly. “I hate to break it on you, but your family is made of jerks.”

Instead of getting angry, she only rolled her eyes, “Riiiight, Ichigo, of course it is. What does it make you then? A piece of your soul did come from our family.”

What?!

* * *

Before Ichigo could respond that being twenty percent jerk was still better than hundred percent, the green-eyed boy yelled loudly, “What?!”

The hybrid looked at him in bafflement, “Um, you wanted something?”

“A piece of your soul?!” he yelled at such volume that attracted everyone’s attention.

“You can’t have it,” Ichigo responded automatically and nearly facepalmed. Smooth, Kurosaki, real smooth. “I mean, what about it?”

The boy (seriously, what was his name? Ichigo couldn’t really call him ‘Ulquiorra No. 2’, could he?) gaped at him with a horrified expression, and so did some other wizards and witches, though mostly older ones.

“Mr. Kurosaki,” Dumbledore frowned, not quite pointing the stick at him. “Did you create a Horcrux?”

“A what-crux?” Ichigo asked in confusion. “What’s that even supposed to be?”

“A Horcrux is an object of the darkest magic,” the headmaster began.

“Words ‘Ichigo’ and ‘magic’ don’t belong in the same sentence unless there’s ‘fail’ in-between,” Renji laughed. “Didn’t you see the whole ‘exploding sticks’ bit? And he sucks at Kido even more than I do!”

Ichigo shot a Bala at the redhead but reluctantly agreed, “Yeah, I’m… not the best. Kinda the worst.”

“A Horcrux,” Dumbledore continued frowning even more, “is an object containing a piece of a person’s soul.”

“Oh, you mean a Zanpakuto?” Ichigo realized. “Yeah, I have one. Technically, four.”

“Every Shinigami has a Zanpakuto,” Rukia interrupted. “And Visored. And Arrancar. And… uhh… Orihime, what are you?”

“Human, I guess,” Inoue replied with a careless shrug.

“And Orihime,” Rukia finished. “Does Shun Shun Rikka count as a Zanpakuto?” she mumbled quietly.

“If we consider any independent soul shard a Zanpakuto, then it counts,” Kaien said. “Right, Ichi-chan?”

The hybrid made a vaguely agreeing noncommittal noise, and Inoue smiled, “Then I have six of them.”

“Six shards?” Rukia sounded impressed and slightly baffled. She always assumed it was one shard in six bodies, like Koten Kyokotsu or Sogyo no Kotowari. No wonder Inoue was so powerful, if her soul was splintered into seven pieces. Rukia didn’t say that there had ever been only one person in existence who could split their soul at will. Orihime wouldn’t like the comparison.

“You have Horcruxes?!” the same green-eyed boy wailed. “How- how could you do this?!”

The assorted spirits and humans exchanged confused looks.

“You know what a Zanpakuto is, but don’t know how to create one?” Ichigo asked in bafflement. “How does that even work?”

“Well, first you need an Asauchi,” Rukia decided to explain. “A nameless sword.”

“And then you basically carry it around,” Kaien interjected, “imprinting your reiatsu on it, while it is slowly pulling your soul apart, and in a couple of years you’ll get a Zanpakuto. If you are a Shinigami, that is. If a Hollow breaks its mask, the soul breaks too. Those who survive become Arrancar, like me.”

“…So you don’t need to murder anyone?” the wizard boy asked tentatively receiving startled looks in response.

“The hell kind of question is it?!” Ichigo yelped. “The hell is _wrong_ with you, you freaking weirdo?!”

“…Maybe I’m _not_ going crazy,” Kokuto mumbled, his shadows stretching towards the creepy boy. Maybe he _didn’t_ imagine the heavy stench of sin radiating from him.

The old wizard looked slightly less judgmental, “It seems like there might be some misunderstanding. May I examine one of your Zanpakuto?”

“Sure,” Kaien shrugged drawing Nejibana from her sheath. “Just don’t touch her. She doesn’t like it.”

“No Zanpakuto likes being touched by anyone except their wielder,” Renji said distractedly, too busy poking and prodding at the snake. There was something really, really weird about the animal – aside from the whole ‘being able to talk’ deal – but he had no idea what exactly. “Hime! Can you scan-” he paused realizing that Ayame and Shun’o were busy holding the giants. “Nevermind.”

“What’s wrong?” Inoue asked curiously.

“This snake weirds me out,” the Shinigami Lieutenant admitted. “There’s just something about it…” he waved his hand in the air feeling completely at a loss for words.

Orihime tilted her head to the side and ran her fingertips over smooth scales. She could understand what he meant – the strange sensation was incredibly familiar but for the life of her she couldn’t figure it out.

* * *

Harry sighed in relief when Dumbledore more or less confirmed that despite being a soul shard the sword wasn’t a Horcrux. He still couldn’t understand why anyone would split their soul but it more or less fell in line with the rest of the weirdness surrounding the strange people. Just to be sure, he asked, “So, it doesn’t make you immortal? Splitting your soul, I mean.”

“Immortality is impossible,” the shapeshifter said flatly. “Everyone dies.”

“Where do you even get those ideas from, weird boy?” the shadow man – Demon – asked, and Harry nearly jumped seeing the shadows circle around him a bit too close for comfort. “Might this have something to do with the stench of Hell around you?”

“You’re kidding, right?” the masked man said. “Does this kid look Hellbound to you?”

“I say what I feel,” the Demon retorted. “Look!”

Harry yelped when the shadows rose around him, hissing and whispering and sounding so similar to the Veil back in the Department of Mysteries. Strangely enough, the quiet voices became almost _confused_ before retreating.

“…That’s weird,” and really, those two words summed up his life pretty well. “You are a weird kid.”

“Heard that, Kurosaki?” the winged brunet laughed. “You are not the weirdest anymore!”

“Never said that,” the Demon responded distractedly, ignoring the brief scuffle nearby. “But still…”

Harry couldn’t decide whether or not he even wanted to know what the whole ordeal was about, but Hermione chose for him.

“What are you talking about?” she asked. “What do you mean by ‘Hellbound’? Can you really tell whether someone will go to Hell? How do you know it?”

“I don’t care what you say, Harry isn’t going to Hell!” Ron shouted then asked quietly, “You okay, mate?”

Harry nodded, glad that his friends were on his side no matter what.

“Shadows can detect sinners, like this guy here,” the Demon said pointing at Voldemort. The shadows were snarling at the downed wizard like rabid dogs ready to rip their prey apart. With a lazy gesture he reeled the darkness in. “I can tell that this… _thing_ killed and tortured plenty of people for no reason other than because he wanted to and feels no regret for it. Prime candidate for an eternity in Hell.”

“The mudbloods and traitors deserved it!” Voldemort hissed. “Muggles are dirt under the feet of wizards! We are like gods compared to them!”

* * *

“Oh, please, no another god-wannabe!” Rukia groaned.

“And a pretty pathetic one,” Ishida snorted in agreement.

“Now, listen here,” Ichigo snarled marching towards the noseless wizard. The tight leash he held over his reiatsu started slipping. “I fought and killed three people who considered themselves gods. You are _nothing_ compared to them! My little sister could defeat you! Hell, Tatsuki could beat you in three seconds flat, and she is just a normal human!”

“Chill, Kurosaki,” Ishida interrupted grasping his shoulder. “You are squashing the wizards.”

The hybrid blinked, realizing with embarrassment that some of his reiatsu leaked out, and quickly reeled it back, crushing his mask just in case, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to lose control.”

* * *

Sometimes, Harry could feel magic. It hummed inside his wand and wrapped around him as a cloak of invisibility. It was inside the Burrow, and at Grimmauld Place, and in Hogwarts. Rarely, he could feel it around witches and wizards – no one who saw Dumbledore angry and felt the very air become harder to breathe wanted to have that power directed against them – but he never _ever_ encountered something so terrible.

The power – heavy and alien and _angry_ – lashed around like a raging beast holding nothing but the promise of swift and merciless death. It pressed on him with the weight of a mountain, and he almost fell to his knees, unable to draw breath, when suddenly it stopped.

His eyes watering, Harry looked at the no longer masked man – a teen, really, no older than Fred and George – apologizing sheepishly.

He was really, _really_ glad that these guys were on their side.

* * *

Sealing his Resurreccion seemed to be the cue for everyone to drop their transformations, realizing suddenly that there really was no point in wasting reiatsu.

“As I was saying before I was so _rudely_ interrupted,” Kokuto continued with a mild glare at Ichigo. “Shadows can tell when someone is Hellbound – destined to Hell – like No Nose over there. But _you_ are really friggin’ weird.”

“Story of my life,” the boy mumbled.

The Demon choked back a laugh, “I’d say you were a normal kid and shadows seem to agree, but there’s still something Hellish about you. I just can’t figure out what exactly.”

“Oh! Oh! Can you scan this snake?” Orihime asked suddenly. “It feels really weird too.”

Kokuto raised an eyebrow and sent a few of the shadows her way, his expression turning to slack-jawed shock, “…The hell? The snake is Hellbound too?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why, yes, I did imply that Orihime belongs to the same species as Yhwach. Of course, it's merely in-universe speculation.


End file.
